


Jack Ruins Christmas

by Zavijah



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Domestic, Flirting, Fluff, Grouchiness, M/M, Pre-Fall, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-11
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:48:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21757804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zavijah/pseuds/Zavijah
Summary: “What’s this?”Plastic crinkled from the kitchen counter. Gabriel looked up from his comm as Jack lifted a bag of gumdrops from one of the several grocery sacks. Knowing trouble when he saw it, Gabriel snatched the candy out of Jack’s hands and pointedly dropped it back into the sack. “Materials.”// Ana left them a simple to-do list; dressing up the base before young Fareeha’s arrival for the holiday. It was an easy task. Why did Jack have to make it so difficult? //Written for R76 Secret Santa Exchange || 2019
Relationships: Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison
Comments: 15
Kudos: 48
Collections: Reaper76 Free For All Secret Santa 2019





	Jack Ruins Christmas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mashath](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mashath/gifts).



“What’s this?”

Plastic crinkled from the kitchen counter. Gabriel looked up from his comm as Jack lifted a bag of gumdrops from one of the several grocery sacks. Knowing trouble when he saw it, Gabriel snatched the candy out of Jack’s hands and pointedly dropped it back into the sack. “Materials.”

Undeterred by the warning in Gabriel’s tone, Jack dug into the other bags. “What for?”

Gabriel tempered the growl in his chest to an annoyed grunt as he gathered the groceries and set them on floor at his feet. The wares safe, Gabriel planted his palms on the counter and narrowed his eyes. “I’m making a gingerbread house.”

Jack didn’t smile, per say, but his blue eyes sparkled with restrained mirth. “I didn’t see any graham crackers in there.”

“Amateur,” Gabriel gestured to the baking sheets behind him. “I’m making it with actual gingerbread.”

“Bread doesn’t sound like a good construction material.”

“It’s not _bread_ bread. It’s—” He didn’t have to explain himself. Gabriel’s lips thinned as he drew a steadying breath through his nose and rallied forth a determination to avoid distractions. He made a backhand gesture toward the door, “Aren’t you suppose to be getting a tree?”

As Jack rounded the counter under some poorly feigned preamble of inspecting the baking sheets, Gabriel shifted his stance to better protect the supplies. His brown eyes slid down Jack’s attire, hinging on the sight of jeans. Actual blue denim jeans. The last time he’d seen Jack wear jeans was very close to never in his life. The combat boots were the same, but the short, work jacket looked like Jack had borrowed it from one of the hanger mechanics.

With most of the Overwatch crew absent for the holidays, leaving the base with just a skeleton crew, Gabriel expected to find Jack dressed down to a t-shirt and sweats. The current ensemble drew Gabriel’s attention to—

Oh.

Gabriel flicked his gaze up to Jack’s face before he could further examine the fit of Jack’s jeans. “Ana will box both our ears if there’s no tree to decorate by the time she gets back with Fareeha.”

Grunting with agreement, Jack pulled a beanie and a pair of gloves from his coat pocket. Nothing blue, nothing flashy. As long as Jack kept his head down he could slip in and out of town without being recognized. Gabriel didn’t like the risk it involved — Jack, the head of Overwatch being out alone — but acquiesced on the premise of the trip getting Jack out of the office and away from the paperwork.

“I was just leaving,” Jack’s bright hair disappeared under the dark beanie.

“Then be gone.”

Jack lifted his gloved hands in mock surrender, “I’m gone. I’m gone. I’ll leave you to your baking, _dear_.”

With a speed only a super soldier could achieve, Gabriel grabbed a spatula from the counter and chucked it at Jack’s head. It hit the door frame as Jack deftly dodged and fled the kitchen. Gabriel listened to the retreating footsteps. Only when the hall was once again silent did Gabriel return his attention to his comm and resume scrolling over a recipe.

“One stick of butter; room temperature, half a cup of brown sugar, one tablespoon of cinnamon…”

He mumbled through the rest of the ingredients and instructions before getting to work. In between mixing the dough and arranging the various candy into dishes, Gabriel searched the internet for inspiration. A plain, four-wall house with a peaked roof would serve the purpose, but it was average — below average. Gabriel didn’t like _average_.

The dough was placed in the fridge to firm. Gabriel cleaned the mixer, chewing over the idea of making the gingerbread house to resemble their current base of operations. A more ambitious project. He had the time, the resources, and a sense of pride urging him to perform better than average.

Shrugging to himself, Gabriel hung his apron, set the ovens to pre-heat, and headed to his office to retrieve his tablet.

The tablet screen was bigger than his comm’s and, being linked to the base’s security systems, came with the functionality to provide him with aerial views of the building. Gabriel grabbed a handful of paper and a couple pens to sketch out his baking plans.

Upon returning to the kitchen, he found Jack sitting at the island. Gabriel paused and glanced toward the dishes of candy then to Jack’s empty hands.

“You left the ovens on,” Jack said by way of greeting.

“I know,” Gabriel set the tablet on the counter, suspicious. Jack’s coat, hat, and gloves laid across the chair near the mess table. “You were quick. Where’s the tree?”

“In the rec room, along with the box of decorations.”

Jack watched him, chin resting in an upturned palm; an avatar of innocence.

The ovens were still on and at the right temperature. The candy dishes remained full and neatly in place. None of the pans or utensils were askew. Paranoia gnawed at the back of Gabriel’s neck. The scrutiny swung back to Jack, narrowing with accusation. “You didn’t go to town.”

“There’s plenty of trees just outside.”

“Jack.”

“And it’s Overwatch property.”

“ _Jack_.”

“ _And_ , maybe, I wanted to help with the gingerbread house.”

Help likely wasn’t the right word, but Gabriel didn’t press the matter. He had work to do and arguing semantics with Jack could carry on for hours. Instead, Gabriel slid the tablet over to Jack and set the papers and pens alongside it. He caught the scent of pine clinging to Jack; it mixed well with the gentle spice of Jack’s cologne.

Gabriel tapped the papers, “Then make yourself useful and scale down the base dimensions. Nothing higher than ten inches.”

A pout formed as Jack picked up one of the pens, “I thought I wasn’t suppose to do any paperwork today.”

A new smell, something akin to peanut butter, intruded the air when Jack spoke. Gabriel glared and shoved the tablet into Jack’s chest. “Shut your candy stealing gob or I’ll have Athena lock you out of the kitchen.”

“Can’t,” Jack propped the tablet up just past the papers. “I outrank you.”

The brown dough was moved from the fridge to the counter before Gabriel lifted a brow, cleared his throat, and addressed the base A.I., “Athena?”

`”It is my understanding that Captain Amari outranks you both whenever young Fareeha is on base.”`

Jack grunted at Gabriel, “Doesn’t mean you can lock me out.”

“Athena,” Gabriel continued, “If Jack interfered with Ana’s orders for me to make a gingerbread house for Fareeha, what would you do?”

`”I would do my best to prevent Commander Morrison from ruining Christmas.”`

The affronted look Jack wore as he mouthed over the phrase ‘ruining Christmas’ was victory enough for Gabriel. He grinned, broad and pleased, and turned back to the dough. “So help out, or get lost.”

`”Would you like to listen to some music while you work, Commander Morrison?”`

Salt to the wound. Gabriel glanced over his shoulder to savor Jack’s glower. Yet, as with all things, Jack found a way to turn it around. He smiled, cute as he was impish, and evenly met Gabriel’s eyes.

“Yes, that would be nice, Athena. Christmas music, if you would please.”

A rendition of ‘Jingle Bells’ began and Gabriel rolled his eyes. He would not be defeated by annoying Christmas music. He reached for his apron, only to find it gone. Among the several aprons available, only a pastel pink one remained. Gabriel shot a look at Jack, but his blue eyes remained downcast, dutifully keeping to his assigned task.

“Where’s my apron?”

Jack shrugged, only lifting his gaze to squint at the tablet. “I don’t know. Laundry?”

“Right.”

Unconvinced, but stubborn, Gabriel slipped the pink apron over his head, not missing the way Jack bit down on his lower lip.

Weathering a little pink and grating music were filed away as justified reasons for a later revenge.

After tying off the strings, Gabriel divided the dough among the cookie sheets and began flattening it out. All the while his mind churned with possible venues of petty revenge. It ranged from putting push pins on Jack’s office chair to ‘accidentally’ bleaching his long coat and dying it pink. He imagined pelting Jack in the face with a hard packed snowball, then white-washing him in the nearest snow bank.

As Gabriel worked, and plotted Jack’s ultimate demise, he absently mumbled along with the music.

“I’m dreaming of a white—”

 _Crunch_.

Gabriel froze, his shoulders raised, and he slowly pivoted around to find Jack with a candy cane hanging out of his mouth. Jack’s eyes were wide and the disarming smile he flashed at Gabriel twitched nervously at the edges.

Ah, Gabriel thought as his eyebrow ticked upward, so Jack hadn’t meant to bite down so loudly.

Jack cleared his throat while lowering the candy cane. “How big are those sheets? 18 by 13, right?”

Anger waylaid by the question, Gabriel turned to visually gauge the pan size. When he looked back, the candy cane had mysteriously disappeared. Gabriel snorted, “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

Jack slid the papers over with a skittish smile.

One glance at the sketches soothed Gabriel’s prickly mood. Not only had Jack done the math to scale down the base dimensions, but he had sketched the best way to cut out the pieces, minimizing the waste of dough, and also how to arrange them on the baking sheet to maximize the use of a limited space.

Gabriel almost smiled.

Almost.

He caught the reaction and forestalled it long enough to take the paper and turn away. Out of view, Gabriel beamed at the thoughtful work. His voice, however, maintained an unimpressed growl as he said, “I guess this will work.”

The shapes were carefully measured out before being cut from the flattened dough. Behind him, Jack hummed along with the music while sketching doodles on the remaining paper. Gabriel kept a keen eye on him, watching for any movements toward the candy, but Jack remained content where he sat at the kitchen island.

Once the sheets were in the ovens, Gabriel let out a small puff of air. The kitchen wasn’t small, but neither was it as large as some of the other bases’. It still became too warm between the ovens and the heat running to offset the chilly weather. Gabriel wiggled out of his sweatshirt; his dog tags jangling as they swung free.

Jack’s humming promptly stopped.

With a smirk, Gabriel straightened the black tank-top he wore. He made a show of stretching out the muscles of his bared neck and arms before pulling the stand mixer forward.

“You’re, uh, making frosting?”

“I don’t do anything half-assed, Jack.”

The bar stool scraped against the floor as Jack rose. Gabriel grunted and turned with the balloon whisk attachment raised to ward off Jack’s approach. Jack caught him by the loose dog tags and Gabriel’s heart competed with his stomach over which one could do the worst cartwheels as Jack smiled at the tags.

Jack ran a thumb over the metal stampings before his gaze lifted and he tucked the tags into Gabriel’s tank-top. His fingers lingered, tracing over the visible bump. “Not suppose to run machinery while wearing dangling jewelry.”

“Jack,” Gabriel said, firmly, while a heat bloomed in his chest. “I know you’re sneaking M&Ms with your other hand.”

Barking out a laugh, Jack rocked back on his heels and popped the round candy into his mouth. He grinned while his blue eyes grazed over the other candy dishes. “Isn’t a good chef suppose to sample the food while he cooks?”

“Yeah,” Gabriel pressed the whisk into Jack’s chest and pushed him away from the candy laden counter. “But you’re not the cook.”

“Cook’s assistant?”

More like a beggar at the door, looking for hand outs. Gabriel snorted and resumed setting up the mixer. Scant few ingredients were required to make the frosting. While it began mixing, Gabriel tapped a spatula against the counter and tossed a contemplative glance toward Jack. It was more entertaining to think about smacking Jack’s hands away from the counter rather than allowing him to help.

In the end, he gestured at the ovens. “Get the cooling racks out and be ready to pull out the gingerbread.”

Jack complied to the order with a happy skip to his steps while Gabriel fussed over getting the right texture for the frosting.

“You sure that will hold it all together?”

Jack’s question echoed Gabriel’s concerns. The type of frosting needed to frost a cake differed from the act of using it as an adhesive to build a gingerbread house. Gabriel turned off the mixer before glancing toward where Jack leaned against the far counter, frowning at the cat-themed oven mitts.

“Why? Got a better idea?”

“Powdered sugar and water.”

Gabriel’s nose scrunched at the suggestion, “You mean use a glaze?”

“I don’t know,” Jack shrugged. “I remember using something like that as a kid. We built marshmallow castles using it. When it dried it held it all together like glue — except you could eat it.”

“Are you sure you weren’t just eating glue?”

Jack shot him a fierce, blue glare and flapped the kitten mitts at him.

He matched Jack’s petulance with a smile. Jack glowered at the oven timer. After a few thoughtful seconds, Gabriel motioned to the container of powdered sugar. It didn’t hurt to have a back up plan. “Go ahead, make your glue.”

Before Gabriel could do little more than transfer his frosting into a different bowl, a string of muttered curses erupted from Jack. A half turn revealed the mess of powdered sugar across the counter and floor. Gabriel softly tsked, shook his head, and said, “You are the worst assistant I’ve ever had.”

“You didn’t tell me it would _poof_ everywhere when I opened it!”

No, he hadn’t. Gabriel smirked, Jack scowled, and the oven beeped. With another grumbling swear, Jack dutifully donned the oven mitts and took out the cookie sheets. Gabriel left him to it after supervising his technique of transferring the gingerbread from the pans to the cooling racks.

The island was cleared and Gabriel meticulously set up the dishes of candy, bowl of frosting, and the stacks of (cooled)gingerbread. Excitement swelled in his chest as he looked over the arrangement. Halloween would always be his favored holiday, but he couldn’t help but look forward to constructing the gingerbread house like a 3d puzzle. Granted, he’d have to leave most of the decorative decisions to Fareeha, but as long as she heeded some of his artful suggestions, it would look decent.

Perhaps look too good to eat, _ha!_

Except…

Gabriel’s brow furrowed, “Where’s the other roof piece?”

The cooling racks were empty and it wasn’t stuck to another piece of gingerbread. A glance at Jack’s face — his chin tucked downward and his gaze planted forward — revealed the devastating truth.

Jack caught his stare, met it, then adverted his gaze to the ovens. “Maybe you forgot to cut out both pieces.”

“You didn’t — please tell me you didn’t.” Gabriel stared at him.

“I didn’t,” Jack cleared his throat. “Didn’t what?”

Gabriel caught him by the chin and forced their faces to meet. A single brown crumb stuck to the corner of Jack’s lips. Gabriel’s eyes widened at the incriminating evidence, then narrowed as the shock gave way to fury. His dark eyes hardened as he growled, “ _Jack._ ”

“It broke when I was moving it!”

“I cannot believe—”

“Why didn’t you make extra pieces!?”

“Why did you _eat_ it!?”

“I didn’t want you to see that I broke it!”

Gabriel smacked Jack’s arm, “We could have used the frosting to stick it back together.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, _oh_.”

Gabriel sighed, frustrated, and looked toward the counter, wondering if he had enough ingredients left to make a small batch of gingerbread. He was an excellent cook, but baking was a different territory. It never occurred to him to make extras in case pieces broke or hungry mouths claimed one.

From the corner of his eyes, he noticed Jack’s shoulders slump. The frown on Jack’s face was a far cry from the playful farce of a pout he’d been presenting earlier. The guilt was genuine. Gabriel could almost hear the mental beating Jack was giving himself over the mistake. Such a darkening mood would steer Jack back into his office to hide behind a paper wall of responsibility.

Such wallowing was not allowed; especially not during the holiday.

Gabriel rubbed at his goatee while heaving a dramatic sigh, “Guess I’m just going to have to kick you out while I fix this.”

“Wait,” Jack straightened. “I can—”

“Athena, Jack ru—”

Jack smacked his hands over Gabriel’s mouth and his blue eyes blazed with determination. “I can fix this.”

`”Yes, Commander Reyes?”`

Gabriel arched a brow at Jack, struggling not to smile as the burning conviction dissolved into a pleading, puppy-eyed look. He slid his tongue along his lips, tasting the sugar from Jack’s hands. He narrowed his eyes, and fought to keep his countenance stern as he seized Jack by the wrists and tugged his arms down.

“False alarm, Athena.”

`”If you say so, Commander Reyes.”`

Not a second later, Gabriel pulled Jack’s hands back up. His lips closed around the tips of two fingers. Jack instantly stilled and his jaw tightened; color dusted along his cheekbones. Gabriel savored the reaction before he released the hand, licked his lips, and asked, “Why do your fingers taste like frosting?”

The color crept into Jack’s neck. “It’s the powdered sugar, I swear.”

A sly smile surfaced and when Gabriel spoke, he purposely dipped the words into a low, suggestive rumble. “So how are you planing to fix this?”

It took a noticeable amount of time for Jack’s blue eyes to swim back into focus. He shot off like a rubber band, flinging open cabinet doors and shoving the contents around. He tore through the kitchen before disappearing into the pantry. Gabriel watched it all, amused by Jack’s earnest nature to fix the problem.

Gabriel would have settled for Jack on his knees and —

“Aha!”

Jack emerged, hands held high with a brown, rectangular package. He beamed while presenting it to Gabriel like a dog would a treasured toy.

Gabriel regarded the package of graham crackers with the same disdain he’d show a slobbery ball.

“No.”

“What?” Jack looked between Gabriel and the crackers. “You can use these for the roof!”

“How _old_ are those?”

When turning the package around failed to produce an expiration date, Jack shrugged. “Just cover it with frosting. No one will know the difference.”

“Except Ana when Fareeha gets food poisoning from eating it.”

Jack huffed, “I’ll make sure I eat it first.”

Tentatively, as Gabriel was sure the stale contents within the package would crumble as soon as they were exposed to air, he took the crackers and set them on the counter. Both he and Jack stared at the package with different levels of apprehension. With a groan, Gabriel turned away from the offensive item. “Better make your glaze. We’re probably going to need it.”

Ignoring the Frankenstein-esque science going on next to him, Gabriel began assembling the rest of the gingerbread house sans the roof. He used generous amounts of frosting to ensure its stability. He hummed with the music, trying but failing to not sneak darting glances at Jack’s abomination.

As predicted, most of the graham crackers broke as soon as Jack did so much as attempt to wiggle them free. Tongue caught lightly between teeth, Jack focused intently on the task until, near the middle of the stack, he managed to extract a whole cracker. He placed it on a hastily ripped piece of parchment paper, grinned victoriously, and grabbed the cup full of….

Gabriel’s brow pinched as Jack drizzled the watery glaze over the graham cracker. It was an valiant effort to reinforce the cracker’s frail existence, but Gabriel couldn’t help but snort out a laugh. He bumped his shoulder against Jack’s. “Do you know what that looks like?”

Those too-blue eyes raised from the messy cracker to peer quizzically at Gabriel, “Like a glaze?”

Smirking, Gabriel seized the cup and dipped his fingers into the sugary concoction. Semi-transparent, milky, and thick enough to drooped from his fingers in thick, sticky ropes.

Jack watched the demonstration, confused, until the implication dawned on him with the intensity of a slap to the back of the head. His eyes widened and snapped to Gabriel’s face, “It does _not_.”

With a flick of his fingers, Gabriel dotted Jack’s face with murky, white globs. “Oh, it really does now.”

“You are—”

Unable to deny himself the pleasure of testing the limits of Jack’s composure, Gabriel leaned forward. He curled a hand around the back of Jack’s neck, preventing an escape, and swiped his tongue over the sugary goo nearest to Jack’s mouth.

“Except it’s sweet, instead of salty.”

“ _Gabe_ ,” Jack said, sounding and looking absolutely abashed right up to the moment he smeared the sugary water across Gabriel’s cheek. He followed the motion by licking the mess from his fingers. “You’re right, it does.”

One moment Jack was smirking in triumph, the next he was scrambling for purchase as Gabriel roughly pinned him against the counter.

Gabriel lifted Jack by the thighs, planted his jean clad ass on the counter, and attacked his throat. His teeth and lips slid along Jack’s racing pulse, growling. The candy dishes rattled aside, spilling to the floor as Jack fumbled to brace himself against the assault.

“Oh _fuck_ —” Jack arched when Gabriel dug his fingers into his haunches. His breath hot against Gabriel’s ear. “Gabe — _Gabe_ — not here.”

“Like you haven’t been a pest all morning, wanting my attention, all because you know we have the whole base to ourselves.”

“I wasn’t I— I—”

Gabriel silenced Jack’s protest with a devouring kiss. His hands, still sticky from the sugar glue, slid up the back of Jack’s shirt. His fingers curled around the shape of toned muscles, dipped along Jack’s spine, and skated downward. One hand bypassed the denim barrier, following the curve of Jack’s tail bone until Gabriel touched against his goal.

A moan stuttered out of Jack. He clutched at the back of Gabriel’s neck, his first closing around the loop of the apron and the chain of Gabriel’s dog tags.

Gabriel punctuated the kiss with a sharp bite to Jack’s lower lip. His fingers circled, pressing firmly without entering, “You were saying?”

“I was — on purpose. I was,” Jack amended while hooking his legs around Gabriel’s thighs.

The candy scattered further as Gabriel laid Jack out on the counter. He bent over him, sucking a bruise to his neck while struggling to fit more of his hand down the back of his jeans.

Over the music and the sound of Jack’s panting, a throat cleared.

Both men froze.

Gabriel straightened from Jack, a snarl already on his lips as he whirled around to bite off the head of whatever unlucky cadet that had wandered into the kitchen. His anger fizzled at the sight of Ana glaring from the doorway. Her hand firm on Fareeha’s head, keeping the girl from peering inside.

Jack tittered and Gabriel’s attention snapped to him.

“By the way, Ana sent me a message saying she’d be back earlier than planned.”

“I wanted to make sure everything was getting done,” Ana said flatly.

Gabriel pinched Jack’s thigh, _hard_ , and eased away. In turn, Ana’s hand loosened on Fareeha’s head. She peeked out from behind her mother’s legs, grinning from one ear to the other because she knew they were in trouble instead of her. Gabriel stuck his tongue out at her; an expression she returned with a wrinkling of her small nose.

Ana shook her head and crossed her arms, “Can’t I trust you two alone for more than an hour?”

“I got the tree,” Jack said as he slid off the counter; candy rained to the floor after him.

“And I made a gingerbread house.”

Ana raised a brow at them both, but whatever lecture she intended to unleash ended when Fareeha darted forward.

“I wanna help make the gingerbread house!”

“That’s the idea, kiddo.” Gabriel said.

“Not until you wash your hands,” Ana caught her daughter by the shoulders while brandishing a glower at them. “All of you.”

Grinning, Gabriel lifted his hands, palms out in surrender, and retreated toward the sink. “Mine are only sticky from Jack’s goop.”

“It was powdered sugar and water!” Jack loudly proclaimed as he fled to the supply closet for a broom.

After scrubbing his hands, and helping Fareeha do the same, Gabriel placed a stool next to the counter for the young Amari. He fixed the upturned dishes of candy, refilled some of them, and brushed the rest of it onto the floor where Jack swept up the last of the mess. Ana, after a few minutes of stern supervision, left to unpack Fareeha’s luggage.

Fareeha bumped against Gabriel’s hip as she inspected the different candies.

“I just need to put the roof on, then we can start decorating it.” He told her.

The glazed graham cracker of Jack’s making held together when Gabriel carefully lifted it from the parchment paper. He brought it over to the edible base, slathered it with frosting, and—

“Where’s the other part of the roof?”

Sucking in an angry breath, Gabriel glared toward Jack. Jack merely blinked at him from where he stood across the room, emptying the dust pan into the garbage. Then Jack’s gaze lowered and he started to sputter with poorly restrained laughter. With a gasp of realization, Gabriel looked down at Fareeha.

Happily munching on a rather flat, rectangular cookie, Fareeha blinked up at him.

Gabriel ran a hand down his face, “You are the _second_ worst assistant I’ve ever had.”

“Who’s the first?”

The petulance on the young girl’s face made Gabriel snort. Fareeha could be so competitive about the strangest things. His hand finished running down his face and landed on the dog tags loose against his chest. He ran his thumb over the raised letters of the name stamped into the metal. _Morrison, John Francis_. He tucked them back into his tank-top and gestured toward Jack.

Fareeha harumphed.

Gabriel bent down to her level and cupped a hand to his mouth to whisper, “Wanna lock Uncle Jack out of the kitchen?”

Her eyes twinkled like Christmas lights, “Yeah.”

He winked and strolled over to the door. With a quick hand motion, he beckoned Jack to follow. Fareeha watched, grinning wildly behind her gingerbread cookie. Gabriel schooled his face into neutrality while giving her another wink. Once Jack neared, brows raised in question, Gabriel hooked a hand around the back of his neck.

“You’ve got a little…”

He swiped his thumb through one of the sugar blots clinging to Jack’s cheek. His target effectively dazed, Gabriel dove in to steal a light kiss, further disorienting Jack’s sense of danger. It also served as an apology for how Gabriel promptly shoved him out into the hall.

“Athena! Jack is trying to ruin Christmas!”

The door slid shut.

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt:**  
>  Gabriel and Jack decorating gingerbread houses, and Jack is eating the roof while Gabe can be a mix of happy/surprised and giving Jack a playful smack to his arm.  
> 


End file.
